Cold Cases & Old Partnerships
by CMemlovr
Summary: Before her transfer to Internal Affairs, Sergeant Raydor had been partnered with Detective Sergeant Flynn, Homicide division. That is, until a cold case and family circumstances forced Sharon to re-evaluate her career choices.
1. Prologue

_September, 1996_

"So, you're stuck hugging the desk for the duration, huh?" laughs Detective Andy Flynn, tousling his partner's immaculate hair slightly, knowing that it'll probably drive her nuts.

Sergeant Sharon Raydor, known fondly to those in Homicide as 'Rulebook' Raydor (a nickname that would become less fond in time, though still persevere), glares at her partner semi-exasperatedly. "Looks like it. Think you'll manage out there without me?" she teases, her eyes shining with mirth as she straightens out the disrupted locks of hair.

"Oh, I'd say I can," chuckles Andy, "I can't promise that I won't get into a few scrapes, though."

"I'll bet," sighs Sharon, only half-amused by the likelihood that her partner will probably end up with another leaf in his jacket if left to his own devices.

Their banter is interrupted by the loud _thwack_ of several files landing in a pile on Sharon's desk.

Leaning on the pile, Captain Nichols – Sharon's immediate superior – directs her attention to the Sergeant sat in front of her. "You've caught a cold case, Rulebook. Seems like the boys upstairs don't want to let you off easy just 'cos you're pregnant."

Meeting her eyes guardedly, Sharon glances towards the pile, "is this all one case?" she asks.

"What can I tell you? Lots of paperwork but no leads – just what a benched Sergeant needs to fill her time," laughs Nichols, tickled by the horrified expression on Sharon's face.

"Great," grouses Sharon, spotting the look of amusement on her partner's face.

Nichols notes Flynn's reaction with mirth, and she turns to him before casually remarking, "Since your partner's on desk duty, you'll be acting like the gentleman I know you are and doing the leg work on this one."

Andy rolls his eyes before nodding in assent, causing his Captain to smirk good-naturedly.

"'atta boy!" chuckles Nichols before taking her leave.

Snorting under his breath, Andy turns back to face Sharon, who has already started distributing the files evenly between them.

"So, who died?" asks Andy bluntly, earning himself a bemused glare from his partner.

"Victim's name is Anna James – it says here that she died twenty years ago."

"Shit, this case isn't cold – it's frozen. Why are they defrosting it now?"

"Apparently the husband – who has been in prison since '76 – received new information and has put his case forward for an appeal."

"Well, better late than never, I guess. Though, if you ask me – it's always the husband." Andy smirks, knowing that his partner disapproves of his view.

"Yes, I'm well aware of your favourite adage. And in this case, I'd be inclined to agree with you," she mutters, her eyes scanning through all of the charges listed beneath the husband's name, "Have you seen how many domestic disturbance calls the man had against him in the years leading up to his wife's murder?"

"Damn, you're right," Andy whistles quietly through his teeth as he flips through the same information, "I'm guessing, then, that most of the papers on our desks are officer reports for the Domestic Disturbances over the years."

Though Andy and his wife had had their fair share of problems before the divorce, he could never knock her about, especially not the way this guy had beaten his wife. He wonders how much of an asshole the guy had to be to do this to someone he'd sworn to love until death do them part.

Shaking himself out of it, Andy asks pensively, "What's the new information?"

"Apparently, Mr. James received a phone call from an anonymous tipster indicating that his wife had been having multiple affairs before her death. A few days later, his lawyer was handed evidence of the affairs."

"Evidence?" questions Andy.

"CCTV footage of Anna and her lover at an ATM days before her death, coincidentally at the same time that her husband was being treated in hospital for alcohol poisoning," explains Sharon, reading through the report.

"What was the cause of death?" asks Andy, glancing down at the crime scene photos that have finally come into his hands.

"Internal bleeding as a result of multiple-contact blunt-force trauma. Apparently there was also a skull contusion that was non-fatal but would've knocked her out. He beat her to death," replies Sharon quietly, the information on the file doing nothing to truly explain the horror of the beating the victim had been subjected to.

"Shit," curses Andy quietly, noting the distressed expression on Sharon's face, "you okay, Rulebook?" He uses the nickname fondly, knowing that it usually brings a smirk to her face. He peers at her expression again, but it seems frozen with horror.

"I'm fine," she breathes quietly, a slight tremor in her hands as she places the file on her desk carefully. "It says here that the victim was pregnant when she died."

"Man, they really know how to assign cases, don't they," growls Andy, reaching protectively over the desks for Sharon's hand. He swipes his thumb comfortingly over the back of her hand before sliding it back to his own case file.

"I'll be fine, Flynn." Her tone becomes business-like, cold, even. Andy knows that this is how she detaches herself from the cases, but still wishes that she would allow herself to feel the same rage that has started to burn in the pit of his stomach. "The report states that the object thought to have caused the skull contusion – a bookend – was originally missing from the scene but was later recovered from the husband's car as a result of, what do you know, another _anonymous_ tip."

"What's the significance of the bookend?" asks Flynn.

"It was found much later in the investigation, when it looked like there was no other evidence against the husband," a note of suspicion enters Sharon's voice as she relays the information.

"That's pretty lucky," hedges Andy, his own suspicions raised by the fortunate and timely retrieval of evidence, "who were the other suspects at the time?"

"It looks like there weren't any," replies Sharon, her tone brittle.

"Then we'll just have to find some," states Andy confidently, hoping to rouse his partner from her irritation at a fellow detective's work.

"Do you want to go through the neighbour's statements that were used for the trial? They might help," suggests Sharon.

"Sure," agrees Andy.

"Fine, then I'm going to make sure that the bookend wasn't the only evidence against Mr. James at the time of his arrest," replies Sharon resolutely.

 _ **Hi guys! This is my take on Sharon's past with Andy prior to their 're-introduction' in**_ **The Closer. _I hope you've enjoyed reading this chapter :) If you have, please leave a review!_**


	2. Chapter 1

"Mrs. Thompson?" asks Andy.

"Yes, that's me," replies an elderly lady, opening the door slightly wider at the sight of Andy's badge.

"I'm Detective Flynn, and I wanted to ask you a few questions about Anna James, your neighbour almost twenty years ago." Andy rattles off his usual introductory spiel without missing a beat, then smiles kindly at the elderly woman, knowing that the best way to get information is to build rapport. And old ladies, they love the 'good young man' routine.

"There's a name I haven't heard in years," replies the woman sadly, "such a shame what happened to that poor girl."

"Would you mind if I come in to speak to you?" asks Andy.

"Of course, Detective. Please, follow me," replies the woman kindly.

"So, how well did you know Anna?" questions Andy as they reach the living room.

The elderly lady indicates for Andy to take a seat in one of the overstuffed couches bordering the coffee table. He obliges, setting her at ease as she follows suit.

"Oh, not well, I'm afraid. The poor thing kept herself to herself mostly. Though I always thought that it was because of her husband," she responds pensively.

"Her husband, ma'am?"

"Well, now, _he_ was a piece of work. I used to have to make disturbance calls at least once a week while I was their neighbour – he'd scream and shout at his poor wife."

"That sounds terrible, Mrs. Thompson. Do you know if he ever did anything else to Anna?"

"I don't really know, to be honest. He kept her locked inside much of the time. When I did see her out, she would be wearing these huge sunglasses, but I didn't think anything of it since it is LA, and the sunglasses were very fashionable for the young people at the time."

"Did you ever see anyone else at the house?"

"Just the patrol officers when they'd come to break up the arguments, and then afterwards when they came to check in on Anna,"

"How much time would pass between the officers' responding to your calls and then returning to check on Anna?"

"Sometimes days, sometimes weeks," she replies, satisfied with the extent of her recollection.

Slipping his notepad into his breast pocket, Andy stands and thanks Mrs. Thompson for her help, insisting that she remain seated and not strain herself at her age. The comment elicits a laugh from the older woman, who seems to have taken a liking to the cheeky young detective.

Her last comment about the officers had gotten him thinking – it wasn't very often that officers would make return calls after the disturbance had been broken up. If he could find which officers had responded to the calls, he might be able to get more information. Pulling his cell phone out of its holster on his belt, he dials Raydor's desk phone, hoping that she might be able to tell him who the responding officers were.

* * *

Sat at her desk, Sharon is up to her eyeballs in Anna James' hospital records, and becoming more nauseated by the minute.

 _1960 – broken clavicle_

 _1963 – broken nose_

 _1975 – fractured wrist & jaw_

Her eyes travel down the impossibly long list of injuries, noting that most of them were also accompanied by facial lacerations and contusions. Anna James wasn't just arguing with her husband; she was being repeatedly and brutally beaten by him. Sharon was also prepared to bet that there were far more injuries than reported in the hospital records – if she had to guess, knowledge of injuries that were easily hidden would have never made it to the light of day.

Shutting her eyes momentarily, Sharon presses the tips of her fingers into the corners of her eyes, rubbing them warily. Something about the husband is bothering her – maybe an addict? The pattern of the beatings seems random, yet always vicious.

The sharp and shrill ring of her phone pulls her mind from her thoughts, and she sighs as she reaches for it.

"This is Sergeant Raydor, LAPD," she states into the receiver.

"Hey, Rulebook, how's the day treating you?" greets Andy teasingly, hoping to cheer up his partner.

"Just peachy," she grouses, "was there anything you needed, or did you want to gloat that you get to go out in the sunshine and I don't?"

"A bit of both, actually," laughs Andy, "Something Mrs. Thompson said got me thinking: she mentioned that the responding officers on the DD calls would sometimes come back to check on Anna days later. Could you get me the names of the responding officers, please?"

"Sure, just give me a few minutes. I'll call you back once I've pulled up the reports."

"Thanks, Rulebook. Want anything from the outside, while I'm here?" he teases.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind coffee that doesn't taste like dirt. Would you?" she requests sincerely.

"Aren't you supposed to be off coffee until you give birth?" asks Andy, confused. He's sure that his ex-wife had said something about that when she'd been pregnant…

"Fine! Decaf then, please," she laughs, "and I'll make sure to get those names as fast as possible."

"You've got yourself a deal, Sharon," he chuckles.

Hanging up the call, Sharon returns to the mess of papers on her desk, shuffling them away from the keyboard of her computer. She hates using the damn thing, but it's much faster than trying to work her way through all of the papers on her desk.

As she waits for the machine to turn on, she starts listing the names of reporting officers that she has in the files on hand.

* * *

As soon as Flynn pulls up outside Eli Holt's house, he can sense that he has come to the home of an ex-cop. There's just something in the general upkeep of the house; an air of rigidity. The feeling relaxes slightly as he approaches the house and sees the yard littered with the toys of small children. It looks as though the gruff ex-cop he'd spoken to on the phone to arrange the meeting is less grouchy than his tone had suggested.

Ringing the doorbell once, Flynn waits patiently outside and is greeted by a small blonde person once the door is opened.

"Yes?" asks the child with an authoritative air.

' _Definitely a cop's grandkid,'_ thinks Flynn with a smirk.

"Hey there, little man. My name is Andy, could you tell me if there's an Eli Holt, here?" asks Andy, showing the young boy his badge.

"You want my grandpa?"

"Yeah, can you get him for me, please?"

"Sure," replies the kid, before slamming the door in Andy's face. Fortunately, Andy had moved away in time to avoid being smacked in the face with the door.

Moments later, a woman opens the door and greets Andy, "I'm sorry about him – we've told the kids that they're not supposed to leave the door open and let people in without an adult, so he just shut the door," she explains apologetically.

"That's fine, ma'am. I'm Detective Flynn, LAPD, and I'm here to talk to Eli Holt? I arranged to meet with him earlier."

"Oh, well, come in; dad's just in the den with my son."

As he enters the den, Andy can hear an older man laughing with his grandson. He smiles as he thinks that someday, he might have the opportunity to retire and be with his family.

"I see you made it," remarks Eli, not looking away from his grandson to greet Andy.

"That I did," responds Andy easily, unfazed by his attitude. "I wanted to talk to you about the Anna James case."

"What do you need to know?" asks Holt.

"How'd you catch the case?"

"Patrol called it in – apparently the home was a hot spot for domestic visits," replies Eli heavily.

"Did you have any suspects other than the husband, at the time?"

"Don't see why I should've, but I did. There was a shifty neighbour, though I think he died while we were investigating the case."

"Anyone else?"

"No. But, if you want more information, I'd contact Tierney and DeLuca; they worked that part of town at the time, and Tierney was the officer to report the murder. Though I'd watch out for him, he can be a mean sonofabitch, from what I've heard."

"Grandpa said a naughty word!"

Andy had forgotten momentarily that there was a child present, and apparently so had his grandfather. Laughing softly, Eli looks at his grandson and says, "I did, but you're not to repeat it, okay?" directing his attention to Andy, he mutters, "my daughter will have my ass if she finds out I've accidentally taught him a new word again."

Chuckling softly, Andy thanks Eli for his help and takes his leave, hoping to pick up that decaf coffee for Sharon on his way back to the office.

 _ **Hi guys! Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! I'd also like to thank Klara for reviewing, since I'm unable to via PM. If you did enjoy this chapter, please leave a review :)**_


	3. Chapter 2

Scrolling tiredly through the many domestic disturbance reports filed for the James household, Sharon feels her eyes beginning to sting from reading off of the computer screen for such an extended period of time. Noting the names of the responding officers, she scribbles them down on the list that she's been compiling. So far, four names have recurred: Officers Tierney and DeLuca, and Officers Brandt and Singer. Sharon suspects that the recurrence of the names has more to do with duty rosters than their affinity for the James' family, but it's worth checking out whether or not any of the officers had personal ties to the victim.

A few hours later, Sharon has narrowed down the list of possibilities to Tierney and DeLuca, and her eyes and head are pounding from staring for too long at the damned computer screen. The smell of coffee rouses Sharon from her lethargic state, and she notices a fresh cup of brew sitting on her desk, still steaming. Following the arm of the person who placed it there, she finds her partner glancing at her worriedly.

"How long have you been in that position, Raydor?"

"A couple of hours, not long. Thanks for the coffee, I have your names, as promised," she smiles, rolling her head back slightly and feeling the satisfying clicks of her joints stretching in place.

"Yeah? Anyone we know?"

"Unless you've met Officers Tierney and DeLuca, then no." She sips the coffee, revelling in the rich flavour and humming gratefully.

"Tierney I've heard of," replies Andy, his eyes widening with interest as he takes his seat opposite Sharon's desk.

"Have you met him?" asks Sharon curiously.

"No, but the previous lead detective on the case mentioned him – told me to watch out because he's a 'mean sonofabitch'."

"Charming. I guess you'll have the pleasure of meeting the now-retired Officer Tierney on your own, then."

"What about the other guy?"

"DeLuca's off the radar – I'm still looking for him, but it's probably going to take some time. I mean, the guy was a cop, so he'd know how to avoid being found."

"Alright, where's Tierney now?"

"It looks like he's got a bar down town; he's owned it since his retirement."

"In that case, I'll pay a visit to Tierney and see what I can find out. In the meantime, do we have any idea who the lover in the CCTV footage is?"

"Not yet, but I've been wondering whether the good officers were just doing their jobs during their unscheduled house visits," replies Sharon coldly.

"You think that DeLuca or Tierney was sleeping with Anna and murdered her?" inquires Andy incredulously.

"It's certainly worth looking into – I mean, the man in the CCTV footage clearly knows how to avoid the cameras at the ATM; we don't have a single clear shot of his face! To me, that says that he's either law enforcement, or has been arrested before and learned from his mistake," replies Sharon resolutely.

"I don't know, Sharon. Even if one of the officers were sleeping with Anna, why would a cop kill his lover?"

"Just because we're cops, it doesn't mean that we don't have the same impulses as everyone else, Andy. I'd look into Tierney as a suspect when you question him," advises Sharon, indifferent to Andy's unease at potentially accusing an ex-cop of homicide.

"Alright, I'll question him tomorrow, then. For now, grab some shuteye, Sharon. You're growing a person inside of you – that's got to take a lot of energy," he grins, masking his concern for his partner's unhealthy lack of sleep with banter.

"I might go home, soon. It's past Emily's bed time, but I might still be able to say goodnight to her and grab a nap," replies Sharon wearily.

"Go home now, Raydor. It's a cold case – it'll still be here tomorrow morning," murmurs Andy, "and say hi to the little lady for me." He smiles softly in return as his partner chuckles at the fondness he seems to have for her son.

"Fine, I'm going. Good night, Andy; I'll see you tomorrow morning," she smiles, tiredly standing from behind her desk and stretching her legs as she does.

"Afternoon," he corrects quietly, "I'll be interviewing Tierney bright and early tomorrow morning."

"Afternoon, then," she agrees, pulling her jacket from the back of her chair. Finishing off the coffee her partner brought her, she chucks the empty cup in the bin on her way out.

"Good night, Sharon," he smiles, waving her off as though shooing her from the office before returning to his own stack of paperwork. He still has to finish formalising the notes he'd taken during the interviews and that'll take at least another hour.

* * *

The next morning, Andy is woken by a gentle hand nudging his shoulder and the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

"Rise and shine, Flynn. You don't get paid to sleep on the job." He hears the humour in her voice before he opens his eyes to see the smirk stretched across her lips.

"Morning, Rulebook. What are you doing here?" asks Andy, disoriented.

"I think I should be asking you that, Andy," laughs Sharon quietly, "it looks like you've drooled on your case file."

Glancing down at his desk, he sees that the ink in his files is smudged in places, most likely around where his face had been resting. Scrubbing his eyes tiredly, he blinks rapidly to dispel the lingering fatigue.

"Perfect," he grumbles, accepting a cup of steaming coffee from his partner. Regarding her quietly, Flynn remarks, "at least one of us is fresh-faced this morning."

"Thanks to you, yeah. Emily was asleep when I got in, so I managed to get a good night in," Sharon responds gratefully.

"Yeah? That's good," he replies, sipping at his coffee.

"I got to thinking last night about DeLuca, and I might be able to track him if he is the one who tipped off James' lawyer," she mentions pensively.

"How?"

"I'm going to track the number the call made to the lawyer came from. I'll need to put in a subpoena for the lawyer's phone records, but once that clears I might be able to find out who the tipster is without having to deal with the lawyer himself."

"Hey, the fewer lawyers I have to deal with, the better," chuckles Andy, his coffee now finished. "I'm going to head out to talk to Tierney – call me if you get any leads on DeLuca."

"Will do. Oh, and Andy? You might want to wash your face first," she smirks, "you've got some ink on your cheek."

* * *

Andy struts into the bar with an air of authority – he wants to present himself as the type of cop he thinks that Tierney will respect, to encourage rapport. Glancing around casually, he makes his way over to Tierney, who is wiping down the bar with a sodden flannel cloth.

"Jimmy Tierney?" inquires Andy authoritatively.

"Yeah, who wants to know?" replies Tierney gruffly.

"Detective Flynn, LAPD," he replies, flashing his badge.

"Ah, one of LA's finest, then. What can I do you for?" asks Tierney, motioning for Andy to take a seat at the bar.

Complying with his invitation, Andy sits opposite Tierney, making a show of rifling through his pockets for Anna's photo for Tierney's benefit.

"I've been handed this cold case and I was told that you'd dealt with the victim a couple of times before she died," remarks Andy casually, as though the case isn't really all that important to him.

"Which case?" asks Tierney cautiously.

Sliding Anna's photo to Tierney across the bar, Andy replies, "Case from '76 – victim's name was Anna James?" Again, he makes a show of attempting to recollect Anna's name, despite knowing it and her life better than he knows his ex-wife.

"Oh, yeah, Anna," grunts Tierney casually, "that was a long time ago," he remarks, scratching his head. "What do you want to know about her?"

"How'd you end up dealing with her so often?"

"Her house was in the area my partner and I were assigned back when I was a patrol officer. Seemed like there was a domestic disturbance there every other day, but I can't say that it surprised me, given that her husband was a no-good drunk with a nasty temper."

"How'd you know he was a drunk?"

"We'd roll up to the house and find him reeking of booze, sometimes he'd be threatening that pretty wife of his with a broken bottle, just 'cos he could."

"Sounds like a real piece of work," remarks Andy, attempting to gauge Tierney's reaction to his agreement.

"And then some. I felt bad for his woman." Tierney seems to be comfortable enough now that Andy decides to push his questions a little bit further.

"Is that why you'd check up on her with your partner sometimes?" he asks, carefully masking the interrogative question as one of understanding.

"Yeah, I guess. She needed looking out for, and her husband didn't let her leave the house all that often."

"I'm sure she appreciated it," replies Andy. He then cautiously mentions Tierney's partner, "I've been looking for your partner –Frank DeLuca? I haven't been able to locate him, though. Any idea where I might find him?"

"Not sure. Frank went his own way the minute he left the force, and I haven't seen him since."

Standing in preparation to leave the bar, Andy is stopped by Tierney's questioning expression.

"They send you detectives out without partners, these days?" asks Tierney.

"Not usually, but my partner's on desk duty until further notice, so I'm doing the leg work for the both of us," grins Andy.

"Yeah? He hit in the line of duty or something?"

"She, and no. My partner's currently pregnant."

"A female detective? And you're the poor sap who got saddled with her?"

"I say the same thing myself sometimes," replies Andy pacifyingly.

He refrains from mentioning that the female Sergeant Tierney has shown such disdain for could probably floor him several times over, and is certainly more intellectually capable than the two of them put together. He'd like to, 'cos God knows the retired cop needs a bracing reality check, but he doesn't in order to maintain rapport on the off chance that he'll need Tierney's co-operation again in future.

That still doesn't stop him from wanting to pummel the man, though.

 _ **Hey guys! Thanks for reading this chapter :) If you enjoyed it, please leave a review and let me know what you think! I'd also like to thank Guest Reviewer for commenting on the last chapter, as I am unable to via PM.**_


	4. Chapter 3

By the time Andy makes it back to the office, it's late enough that he's sure the place will be a ghost town. Striding into the bull-pen, he is unpleasantly surprised by the sight of his partner propped up sleepily on her desk, attempting to finish the search for the retired Mr. DeLuca.

Sharon can feel her eyes sliding shut against her will, but that doesn't mean that she's going to allow herself to give in. Inhaling deeply, she stretches the muscles in her neck before resting her head against her closed fist. She continues to scroll through the information on her computer screen, unaware of her partner's entrance into their office space.

"What the hell are you still doing here, Raydor?" asks Andy disapprovingly.

"Huh?" she starts, her heart thumping at the sight of Andy standing over her. "Shit, you scared the crap out of me, Flynn! Don't sneak up on me like that," she groans, mortified when she yawns widely.

"You're obviously dead on your feet, Sharon. Go home," he instructs her firmly, "and I don't want to have to tell you again." He smiles slightly at this, wanting to soften his last comment.

"I still haven't managed to track down DeLuca," she protests in response, "I'm staying until I do."

"Track him down tomorrow, when you've had a night's sleep," insists Andy.

"And are you going to sleep on the desk again?" asks Sharon disapprovingly.

"No, I'll go home. In fact, just to make sure that we _both_ go home tonight, I'll drive you and then take myself home. Deal?"

"You don't have to drop me off home, Andy. I'm capable of driving myself," she sniffs, irritated.

"I want to – you know as well as I do that a tired driver can be worse than a drunk driver. You're my partner; I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"Fine," she concedes, too tired to keep arguing with him, anyway.

"There we go," smirks Andy smugly.

"Don't give me that look – it's not what you said. I'm just tired," glares Sharon, unable to stop herself from breaking into a grin moments later at the amused expression on her partner's face.

Together they wait until the computer has shut down completely – a process that seems to take a lifetime – before leaving the office.

Reaching the car, Andy stops to open the door for Sharon before letting himself in to the driver's side.

* * *

"You're staying late a lot, recently," observes Andy quietly.

"I guess I am," agrees Sharon cautiously, "but you know how caught up I get when we have a new case."

"Is that it, though?"

"Well, yeah. I don't enjoy staying late at the office – you know that." Sharon stifles another yawn with the back of her hand.

"Don't think anyone does," grunts Andy in agreement, hardly able to stop himself from yawning, too. "It's just…is everything okay with you, y'know, at home?" he asks concernedly. He glances over to his partner to gauge her reaction and sees her face has slipped into her impassive mask; the one she uses when she would rather avoid the conversation at all costs.

"We're fine, Andy. Nothing remarkable to report, really," grinds out Sharon tensely.

The temperature in the car seems to have dropped several degrees.

"How's Emily doing?" he asks lightly, hoping to regain levity in their conversation.

"She's good," she breaks into a small smile, her lips quirking upwards fondly. "Super proud of herself right now, actually," she laughs softly.

"Yeah? What did she do?"

"This morning she hid mommy's keys, making her a full half-hour late leaving home, giving her an extra half-hour with mommy before school," she smirks, eliciting chuckles from her partner.

"She's getting sneaky, like her mom," chortles Andy.

"Hey! I'm not sneaky. She gets all that from Jack," replies Sharon, the laughter fading from her face.

"You okay?" asks Andy perceptively.

"Yeah. He's been at home with Emily when I've needed him there."

"Then what's the matter?" he presses softly.

It takes Sharon a while before she finally responds: "He reeks of booze, Andy. And I have to wonder if that's something he's doing while my daughter is still awake, or if he starts just after bed time." Concern pulls the corners of her mouth down until she's biting one of her lips.

"You think he's getting smashed around Emily?"

"I don't know. I mean, I understand that law school is _hard_ , and that my being home late doesn't help, but things have been pretty rough lately," she admits wearily.

"Shit, Sharon. I'm sorry," replies Andy sincerely. "If I can ever help you and Emily out, you know you just have to let me know, right?" Bringing the car to a stop in front of Sharon's home, he turns to her, noting the worry and distress in her expression.

"Thanks, Andy. I appreciate the offer," she smiles lightly, attempting to reassure him.

"Anytime, Rulebook. You know that," he grins, patting her hand softly over the centre console.

Waving her thanks and goodbye, Sharon leaves the car and makes her way to her front door. Andy waits until he's seen her entering the house and shutting the door behind her before pulling away from the kerb.

* * *

As she gets ready for bed, Sharon considers her conversation with her partner, wondering whether she should have divulged as much about herself as she did. Rationally she knows that, as partners, they should have this kind of trust between them. Still, being so open with someone other than her husband – rather, more open with someone who isn't her husband – is disconcerting. She's glad that he has her back, though, and she'd have his in the same way if he ever needed her.

After a few hours of sleep in his own bed, Andy wakes and returns to the office, hoping to lighten some of Sharon's load come morning. Cracking the joints in his fingers, he reopens Sharon's latest search on her computer and begins scrolling through the records himself, thankful at least that his partner had managed to obtain the subpoena earlier in the day. With his eyes never leaving the screen, Andy leans back and readjusts his position to one of more comfort, settling himself in for the long-haul. Damn this lawyer received a lot of calls…

It takes the better part of the small hours of the morning, but Andy thinks that he might have finally found the number that corresponds to the call placed by the tipster.

' _Thank God,'_ he thinks, before allowing his eyes to slide shut.

 _ **Hey guys! Thanks for reading this chapter, I hope you've enjoyed it! If you have, please leave a review :) I'd like to thank everyone who has already reviewed, followed and favourited - it means a lot to me! :D**_


	5. Chapter 4

"I thought," Sharon slams a mug of coffee in front of her partner, who starts to consciousness at the sound, "that you were going to sleep last night?"

"I did," replies Andy, glaring balefully at his partner before tentatively sipping at the coffee she'd brought him.

"You were supposed to sleep _at home_ , Andy, not at your desk again!"

"I came in early and dozed when I found the number in the lawyer's records," explains Andy, partially ignoring the anger in his partner's tone so as to avoid dealing with her fully.

" _I_ came in early at seven; _you_ slept here overnight," she replies disapprovingly

"Doesn't that technically make me an overachiever?" grins Andy charmingly.

Sharon's expression softens marginally before she asks, "is there something going on at home right now?"

"Nothing unusual – the divorce went through a few weeks ago, and my place just feels _empty._ I figured I might as well do something useful – which I did. I found a number in the lawyer's records that was placed from a payphone."

"Pass me the number, I'll trace it," sighs Sharon, frustrated with her partner for not talking to her.

"Thanks. And thank you for the coffee, you're a life saver, Rulebook," smiles Andy.

Sharon snorts softly, recognising her partner's attempt at charming himself back into her good books.

For a few moments nothing can be heard but the steady tapping of keys as Sharon attempts to locate the payphone from which the call was placed. In the meantime, Andy finishes his coffee, grateful to his partner for thinking of him even while upset with him. He's not sure how he'll take to working with a new partner in a few months, when Sharon will have to go on maternity leave, but he doesn't really like to think about that while it's a way off, yet.

"Got it," grins Sharon triumphantly. "If this is really DeLuca, he might be somewhere in the vicinity of this payphone," she informs Andy as she hands him a scrap of paper with a neatly printed address noted across it.

"Thanks, Sharon. I'll head out now and see if anyone around there knows DeLuca."

"Call me if anything comes up," instructs Sharon, waving off his thanks.

* * *

Sweating and tired, Andy makes his way to the last major location around the payphone, hoping that this one will pay off. He's been showing a picture of DeLuca around all day, but the fact that the latest photo he has is twenty years old isn't helping much. The lights of the diner's sign flicker in the darkening daylight, drawing Andy in with the promise of AC in the LA heat.

A bell tinkles gently as he pushes the door open, alerting the counter staff to his arrival. Heading towards one of the waiting staff, Andy pulls out his badge and the photo of DeLuca peremptorily.

"Ma'am, I'm Detective Flynn with the LAPD. Do you recognise this man?" He asks, passing the waitress the photo of DeLuca.

"You bet I have – though he's a damn sight older now. That's him, over there," she replies, nodding towards an older man sitting alone at a booth.

"Thank you," replies Flynn, eternally grateful that his day-long canvas had finally yielded results.

Moving quietly towards DeLuca, Andy sits down silently in front of the man.

"Can I help you?" he asks, intending on intimidating Andy.

"I believe you can," he replies with a smile.

* * *

Sharon continues to search for information on Frank DeLuca, becoming ever more frustrated by the fact that she's been hitting dead-ends all day. Apparently, the guy knows how to hide.

Intent on her work, she is startled by the sight of her boss, Captain Nichols, standing over her.

"Captain Nichols, was there something you needed?" asks Sharon, her eyes meeting her superior's confidently.

"I wanted to ask what your plans are, once the baby's born," replies Nichols, sitting across from Sharon and demanding her full attention.

"I figured I'd take my maternity leave and come back here," she responds uneasily, "though I've been considering looking for a position that would allow me to be home for both of my kids more often."

"Have you applied for anything, yet?" asks Nichols.

"No," mumbles Sharon.

"Why not?"

"I like working Homicide and I like working with Flynn – he's a good partner and he's always got my back. I wasn't sure that I'd be able to do that to him."

"Sounds to me that you've had his back more often – made sure that he hasn't gotten into too many scrapes with IA by exploiting the loopholes in the rulebook you hold so dear," chuckles Nichols, her eyes gleaming with mirth.

Sharon snorts softly, "While that might be true, we support each other, really."

Pausing slightly, Nichols reaches out for Sharon's arm, "right now, you need to think about what you need to do for yourself. If you want to stay, I'd be happy to have you – God knows our closure rate's improved since you joined Homicide. But you need to consider what would be best for your family, too."

"I've been looking at my options, but I'm not completely sure about transferring out."

"Well, that's why I wanted to talk to you. I've had an internal memo – IA's looking at you for a transfer. If you work your way through the Lieutenant's exam like I know you can, you'd make Lieutenant earlier than most, and probably be a Captain yourself someday soon. I know it's a big move to think about – IA's not exactly the most attractive option to most cops – but it is worth thinking about."

"Thanks, Captain," murmured Sharon, her eyes fixed on her hands.

"I'll let you think about it, but I'll need an answer pretty soon."

"Of course," replies Sharon wearily.

"If it's any consolation, Sharon, I think he'd understand," remarks Nichols perceptively before making her way back to her own office.

Sharon sits mutely, staring at her computer screen dumbfounded. She has no idea what she wants to do, or what to think, but she has to make the decision _soon._

* * *

"How'd you find me?" asks DeLuca, shaking his head.

"I canvassed the neighbourhood around the payphone," replies Andy, "How did you know Anna James?"

"I didn't," responds DeLuca nonchalantly.

"Try another answer," prods Andy, narrowing his eyes, "you and Tierney were the responding officers on a number of domestic disturbance calls preceding her murder."

"You've spoken to Tierney?" asks DeLuca uneasily.

"Yeah. He said that you'd fallen off the grid, but didn't mention anything about the after-hours visits the pair of you made to the James' house."

Whistling through his teeth, DeLuca sighs heavily before replying, "It was me. I sent the video to the lawyer."

"Why?"

"An innocent – well, not _innocent_ , but anyway – a man has spent twenty years in prison for a crime he didn't commit. It took me twenty years to figure out that Fenton James had nothing to do with his wife's murder, and that it was my partner who'd set him up for it."

"Tierney was sleeping with Anna?"

"You didn't get that from the CCTV tape?"

"We couldn't get a face on the guy, and we assumed that his body had changed somewhat in twenty years," replies Andy dryly.

"Well, yeah. Tierney and Anna were lovers – I used to sit outside in the patrol car as a lookout for the husband."

"You didn't think that what Tierney was doing was wrong?" asks Andy.

"She had other lovers, detective. I figured if my partner was gettin' some and not hurting her like her husband did, what was the harm?" he pauses heavily, "but then the murder happened and we were both in hot water. I never thought that it could be Jimmy – the guy was my partner for years."

Nodding sympathetically, Andy asks him gently, "what made you suspect your partner?"

"Twenty years later, the murder still haunts me. That crime scene was brutal – I had to leave for air for the first time since being a rookie. But Tierney – it was like he'd seen it all before. And then it occurred to me: maybe he had. So I did some digging, and found out that on the night of the murder, Fenton James' car had been in the impound lot with an unpaid parking violation. At the time, the detectives said that he'd probably hidden the murder weapon after the murder and then stashed it in the car, but it made me suspicious."

"So you started looking into your partner?" prompts Andy.

"I did. Felt like an IA rat the entire time, but I figured the right man should go to prison for the murder. I'm not saying the husband didn't deserve to do time – he did some awful things to that wife of his – but he didn't deserve to serve time for her murder."

"Would you be willing to testify against your partner, if we manage to charge him?"

"I don't care if he was my partner, detective. If he's a murderer, I'll testify," replies DeLuca resolutely.

Slightly nauseated by the evening's events, Andy thanks DeLuca and takes his contact details. Turning away from the older man, he leaves the diner to return to his partner.

 _ **Hi guys! Thanks for reading this chapter. If you enjoyed it, please leave a review! Just one chapter left, now :)**_


	6. Chapter 5

Striding into the bullpen, Andy is surprised to find Captain Nichols leaning against Sharon's desk, speaking to her in hushed tones. Knowing better than to interrupt, he delays his entrance and waits until their conversation seems to have concluded. As Nichols departs from his partner's side, he resumes his approach towards Sharon.

"Hey, Rulebook," he calls, "I think I've got us a lead." He grins smugly at Sharon, satisfied that their twenty year old case is nearing resolution.

"Yeah? I think I can do you one better," smirks Sharon, "I think I've found a mistake in the original ME's report."

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours?" suggests Andy facetiously.

"You go first," she smiles.

"I spoke to DeLuca and he's willing to testify that Tierney had been sleeping with Anna, had access to the murder weapon and was not with him on duty at the time of the murder."

"About the murder weapon," begins Sharon, "the ME's report stated a multiple-contact blunt-force trauma as the COD, which it is. But they got the weapon wrong."

"So, the bookend wasn't the murder weapon?"

"I think it was used to disguise the murder weapon," replies Sharon.

"How?"

"The contusion on the skull that was deemed non-fatal might have contributed to the eventual internal haemorrhaging that occurred as a result of the beating. I think she was pistol whipped – the lacerations match – and then her attacker used the bookend to cover the unusual bruising pattern caused by a pistol whip."

"And how does this exonerate the husband?"

"He has no records of owning a firearm, and the weapon used to conceal the bruising from the pistol whipping was found in the trunk of his car weeks after the investigation had been opened."

"Speaking of the car, DeLuca mentioned that Fenton James' car had been in the impound lot at the time of the murder, so if we can check the records and find out when he got the car back and when the 'weapon' was found, we might be able to exonerate the husband."

"It's unlikely that he'd have been able to conceal the bookend during the investigation and then be stupid enough to deposit it in his own car," reasoned Sharon, "I'll try and pull up the records."

"But first, allow me to finish showing you mine," laughs Andy cockily.

"I'm all eyes- and ears," chuckles Sharon.

"DeLuca also mentioned that Tierney was one of many lovers, giving him a motive for murder if he believed that _he_ was her only affair."

"Factor in the pregnancy…" interjected Sharon, a horrifying realisation dawning on her.

"And we have a possible paternity issue," finished Andy, "shame we can't order a paternity test now, though, or we'd have conclusive proof."

"It's been twenty years, I don't think there'd be enough left of the body, even if we did exhume it."

"At least we can prove one extra-marital affair, and we have a suspect who had the opportunity to frame the husband, a motive to kill the victim and the means, since he carried his service firearm at the time."

"If you can get those records, we might have enough to justify an arrest warrant for the DA," grins Andy.

"I'll get right on it," smirks Sharon.

Silence falls between them, save for the steady tapping of Sharon's keys.

Andy can't help but allow his mind to wander, thinking back on the scene he'd been greeted by as he entered the bullpen. He wonders what the Captain had wanted with his partner. It was likely that she'd been asking about the pregnancy, and he tries to rationalise his feelings of discomfort as a reaction to having to part ways with Sharon once her maternity leave kicks in. Still, at least it would only be temporary.

"I've got the records!" Sharon calls triumphantly.

Andy rounds her desk so that he can peer at the computer screen from beside her.

"So you have; good job, Rulebook," he smiles gratefully. "And what do you know? The car was released on the same day that the murder weapon was found. Sounds to me like someone planted it."

"Certainly seems that way," muses Sharon.

* * *

Waiting for the arrest warrant to be approved by the judge has Andy pacing the bullpen looking for things to occupy him.

"Hey, Sharon?" he calls quietly.

"Hmm?" she responds, indicating her attention is with him but she is still going to continue filling out the end-of-case paperwork for the both of them.

"What did the Captain want, earlier?" His tone is curious, as though probing for an answer he is not entirely sure he wants to hear.

"She wanted to go over the details of my maternity leave," replies Sharon easily, masking the guilt she feels at the half-truth she shares with her partner.

"Are you sure you have to do that?" asks Andy facetiously, "you couldn't just remain behind the desk for the next six months?"

"I think that you'd probably want me out of your hair once the hormones really start to kick in," laughs Sharon, remembering how the instability of her emotions during her first pregnancy had felt.

"I managed with my ex-wife, I'm sure I could manage with you," reasons Andy charmingly.

"I don't know, Andy. Your wife didn't have access to a loaded gun," teases Sharon.

Captain Nichols steps into the bullpen, interrupting Sharon and Andy's conversation with barked instructions: "the warrant's been approved, go grab Tierney and bring him back here."

"Yes, Captain," replies Andy, ecstatic that he finally has something to do (despite the fact that he should have been completing the paperwork Sharon had been doing for him).

"Hold on, Andy," calls Sharon, stopping him as he makes his way for the equipment locker.

"What's the matter, Rulebook?"

"I'd like to come along, for this one," she replies, narrowing her eyes, "I want to see the bastard, who beat that poor woman to a pulp, nailed."

"Are you sure, Sharon? I don't want to put you at risk," Andy murmurs concernedly.

"Up until last week I was in the field. One week hasn't made that much of a difference – I can take it," she responds confidently.

"Have you cleared it with the Captain?" asks Andy.

"When did you become such a stickler for the rules?" counters Sharon light-heartedly.

"Fine, fine. C'mon Rulebook, you're riding along with me. Grab a vest and let's get this sonofabitch."

* * *

Sharon, Andy, and their envoy of black-and-whites reach Tierney's bar in record speed. Slowing to a silent halt, the officers leave their vehicles as quietly as possible so as not to alert Tierney to their presence. Luckily, the presence of police cars in the lot outside his bar is not unusual, given the clientele he normally serves.

Entering the bar, Andy makes a show of greeting Tierney in a friendly manner, hoping to make this arrest as easy and painless as possible.

"Detective Flynn! What can I get you?" asks Tierney.

"I'm good for now, thanks. Just thought I'd drop by and introduce you to my partner, Sergeant Raydor," replies Andy with a grin.

"I'll tell you what, I know why you put up with a female partner now," mutters Tierney quietly so that only Andy can hear him, "she's a looker, isn't she?"

"That she is," responds Andy, his eyes flashing dangerously, "she's also a damn fine cop."

"Easy there, I didn't mean no harm," he replies, raising his hands in a pacifying gesture.

"Just like you didn't mean any harm to Anna James?" interjects Sharon with a palpable anger that hardens her voice.

Tierney's face whitens, and he reaches under the bar, groping for-

"He's got a gun!" exclaims Andy, alerting the officers surrounding the bar to the fact that he's armed.

"I'm not going down for this – her husband killed her, or would have, given enough time," Tierney grits out through clenched teeth as he aims the gun towards Sharon.

"Put the weapon down, Tierney," instructs Sharon coldly, unflinching despite the gun aimed at her chest. She has already pulled her own weapon out, and can see that Andy has done the same.

Behind them, officers have begun to funnel the bar's patrons out of the front door, leaving the bar empty save for the partners caught in a stand-off with Tierney.

"Why, so I can surrender to a pretty little thing like you? Women shouldn't be cops, they should be at home with their children, taking care of their men."

"Put the gun down," orders Andy, ignoring Tierney's comments.

Sharon is seething – she can't believe that assholes like Tierney still exist in this day and age. It's the nineties, for God's sake!

"No, sir, that's not going to happen. You're just going to have to try your luck," replies Tierney coldly.

It only takes a moment – Andy chances a glance to the side to make sure that his partner is still fine. Yes, she has a vest covering her chest and vital organs, but they're dealing with an experienced ex-cop who knows his way around a gun.

That one glance – that one lapse in attention – was all it took. Tierney notes Andy's hesitation and instantly fires a round towards Sharon, hoping that if it doesn't hit her, it will at least give him time to escape. The minute the shot is fired, Sharon flings herself to the ground, the bullet scraping her cheek as she dodges it.

"Go!" she instructs Andy, "I'm fine. Arrest Tierney!"

Leaving his partner for the moment, Andy fires a shot into Tierney's leg as he makes a run for it, incapacitating him. Dashing towards him, Andy cuffs the ex-cop and Mirandizes him before calling in for EMTs to treat Sharon and Tierney's wounds.

* * *

By the time Tierney has been processed through booking and is in interrogation, Sharon has finished typing up her reports for the evening.

Her close encounter with a bullet had helped her to cement her decision: she needed to prioritise her family right now. Sighing softly, she makes her way to her Captain's office, knowing that as hard as it's going to be to adjust to a new department, it's going to be even harder to tell Andy that she's leaving him for _IA_.

Knocking on the door, Sharon pokes her head in to her superior's office.

"Can I come in, Captain?"

Nichols bristles at the sight of her injured cheek, but invites her in with a gesture of her hand.

"What were you thinking tonight, Sharon?" There is a clear note of concern in Nichols' voice that makes Sharon burn with embarrassment at the stupidity of her decision to join Andy in the arrest.

"I wanted to see him nailed, Captain. I'd worked just as hard as Andy had on this case, and I wanted the satisfaction of seeing Tierney arrested."

"You could've been killed. I know it's a risk we take as cops, but it's not a risk you take unnecessarily – not as a cop, not as a mother, and let alone as an expectant mother," replies Nichols darkly.

"I know," mumbles Sharon, the weight of her decision hitting her.

"What did you want to see me about, Sergeant?" she sighs, feeling as though she has chastised her normally-responsible Sergeant enough.

"I wanted to ask if the offer to move to IA is still on the table, Captain."

Silence passes between them for a beat, before Nichols comments, "Smart decision, Raydor. I'll file your papers tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, Captain. It's been an honour working with you," replies Sharon earnestly, meeting her superior's eye gratefully.

"You too, Rulebook," responds Nichols, tossing out her nickname fondly.

Smiling lightly, Sharon excuses herself, "I want to tell Flynn myself, so-"

"Go, and congratulate him on the arrest," she replies, a corner of her mouth lifting in a half-smile.

Shutting the door behind herself, Sharon can't help the twinge of sadness that strikes her. It's official – this was her last case in Homicide. The thought alone is enough to fill her with sadness, made worse by the fact that she's going to have to break the news to Andy.

She is broken from her reverie by the man himself, who strides up to her proudly – as he should, considering the impressive arrest that he'd orchestrated.

"What's the matter, Rulebook?" he asks concernedly, his face falling at the sight of Sharon's morose expression.

"I have something I need to tell you, Andy," she replies, directing him to take a seat beside her.

"Don't tell me, I already know," replies Andy with a smile. Sharon's thoughts race – how could he already know if she'd only just told the Captain? "You're pregnant!" he laughs.

Relieved, Sharon laughs quietly with him, lacking in her usual display of mirth.

"Well, it's got something to do with that," she murmurs quietly.

"What is it?" he asks, concern colouring his features again as he recalls the impressive dive Sharon had made for the floor during the arrest.

"I'm transferring out at the end of this week," she states, hopeful that her blunt delivery will have a similar effect to 'ripping off a band-aid'.

"Why, Sharon?" hurt touches his tone, and Sharon hates that she has made him feel as though he isn't a good partner.

"I need to think about my kids, Andy. I need to be home more for Emily and for the little one on the way," replies Sharon sadly, "I hate to leave you behind – you're the best partner I've ever had, and one of few who's been able to tolerate me." She smiles sadly, her hand finding his and giving it a comforting squeeze.

"I understand," he murmurs sadly. "Where are you transferring to?"

Sharon bites her lip. She'd hoped that he wouldn't ask-

"IA," she replies quietly.

To say Andy is stunned is an understatement. "You're ditching me for IA?!" pain and anger resonate in his voice, and an expression of betrayal is plain on his features.

"I'm not ditching you, Andy. It's the best move for me and my family. I can be home for my kids when they need me if I'm in IA. The same can't be said for homicide," she replies evenly, hoping to comfort him.

"You can't do this, you can't become one of them!"

"One of what, Andy? A good cop? I already am – and so are you! Look, you don't have to like my decision, or even respect it, but it'd be great if you could, considering the partnership we've had these last couple of years!"

A hush falls between them, and Andy petulantly looks away from Sharon's searching eyes.

"I respect your decision, Rulebook," he spits the nickname like an insult before softening his tone, "I just don't want to say goodbye to you as my partner."

"I understand, Andy. I'm sorry it has to be this way, truly."

"You shouldn't be sorry, Sharon. It's what's best for you and your kid, and I can respect you for wanting to be there for your family. You're a good cop, and a better mother."

At this, tears begin to well in Sharon's eyes, and she cups Andy's cheek and turns his face so that his eyes can meet hers.

"Thank you," she whispers hoarsely, barely able to reply between the emotions clawing up her throat and the tears threatening to fall from their precarious position on her lashes. Still, though barely audible, her thanks are heartfelt, and Andy smiles sadly in response as if to say ' _don't mention it'._

* * *

 _December, 1991:_

An unfamiliar face has appeared in his murder room. Well, not technically _his_ murder room, but the room out of which he solves homicides. Glancing at the other detectives in the room questioningly, Sergeant Flynn receives no certain response. He notes that the newcomer is unpacking her belongings onto the desk opposite his, and grins in anticipation of _finally_ replacing his previous partner. Still, he doesn't approach her as yet, choosing instead to ask one of the guys about her directly.

"Hey, Provenza, who's the rookie?" he asks casually, still eyeing the pretty, young officer, despite being married himself.

"Hell if I know. Don't you have anything better to do than ask asinine questions, Flynn?" retorts Provenza grumpily.

It's a well-known fact in the murder room that the only person the newly-appointed Lieutenant Provenza actually likes is his partner, Detective Sergeant Andrews. The duo is notorious for getting into trouble and chasing skirt, all while on the job. It's little wonder, then, that the newcomer is a woman, seeing as how their Captain is a woman and likely wants to avoid helping Andy to develop a similarly troublesome (for her) partnership. Their antics had helped to bulk up the Homicide Squad's paper trail of misconduct seminars in the last year alone.

"Funnily enough, I don't," chuckles Andy smugly.

"Tell you what, Flynn, I wouldn't mind swapping partners with you right about now," laughs Provenza, his eyes fixed firmly on the newcomer's behind, "she's got some great _assets_ to offer the team." His voice had been slowly and uncaringly rising in volume, with his last remark seeming to have caught the attention of the thus-far aloof woman.

"I'm glad you think I can add value to the team, _sir_ ," she interrupts, throwing in the term of respect almost as though it is a derogatory term, "I'd hate for my presence here to be wasted."

"Oh, yes," replies Provenza, not even having the decency to look embarrassed at being overheard, "I think you'll provide a great distraction for male perps," he chuckles lewdly.

Gritting her teeth, she says nothing, having gotten used to this kind of attitude from her fellow male officers by now.

Andy, however, is irked by Provenza's brazen ogling – sure, he'd been doing it covertly, but he knew better than to behave in such a way with a fellow officer.

"I'm Detective Sergeant Flynn," he introduces himself, "this jackass beside me is Lieutenant Provenza, and his absent partner is Detective Sergeant Andrews."

"Hello, Detective Flynn," she greets, "I'm Sergeant Sharon Raydor, and I'm your new partner."

* * *

 _ **Hey guys! Thanks for reading this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed it :) If you did, please leave a review! I'd also like to thank everyone who has left reviews, favourited and followed this fic, and in particular I'd like to thank the guest reviewer who reviewed the last chapter, as I'm unable to do so via PM. :)**_


	7. Some Years Later

_August, 1998:_

It's been almost two years since Sergeant Raydor's reassignment from Homicide to Internal Affairs. Two years since she'd had to part ways with her former partner, Detective Andy Flynn, for whom she still has some fondness. That same fondness, however, is the exact reason she's exasperated by each use of force investigation she's forced to open against him – and since her departure from Homicide, she's been seeing his name on her desk with alarming regularity.

So, when she sees the fresh manila folder on her desk stamped with 'HOMICIDE' in bold letters, she's appalled at the thought of investigating her former partner for the umpteenth time this month. Dropping her bags by her desk, she lowers herself into her seat with the utmost care, procrastinating the moment she'll have to open the folder. Finally, unable to put off the moment any longer, she flips the file open to the first page and is pleasantly surprised by the fact that the name greeting her isn't Andy's. She's especially pleased that she's been called to investigate an issue of sensitivity towards suspects involving her least-favourite Lieutenant and his equally irritating partner. Yes, Dumb and Dumber themselves, Lieutenant Provenza and Sergeant Detective Andrews.

Smirking, Sharon can't help the thought that strikes her in that instant: _So there is a God, after all._

Recalling the manner in which Lieutenant Provenza had introduced himself to her almost seven years ago, Sharon has little doubt that he is in severe need of sensitivity training. Still, she resolves not to judge the case by the accompanying (incredibly full) personnel file, and begins her investigation of Lieutenant Provenza and his partner. She can't help but hope, however, the he does come up guilty – sending him to Sensitivity training would be some kind of divine retribution.

* * *

"What the hell kind of bullshit is this, Sergeant?" storms Provenza, slapping the order for him to attend Sensitivity Training down onto Sharon's desk as though it is of personal offence to him.

"That," replies Sharon, revelling in the taste of every word in her purposefully slow delivery, "is a direct order for you and your partner to attend Sensitivity Training as a result of conclusions drawn by Internal Affairs with regard to one of your recent cases."

"Which case would that be?" huffs Provenza, eager to leave the irritating (though still incredibly attractive) Sergeant's office as quickly as possible.

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say," she responds, smirking at his growing ire. "Though, might I suggest being more _sensitive_ in future?" a laugh dances in her eyes, though she dares not do so openly. She might have the authority to mandate the training Lieutenant Provenza sorely needs, but he is still her superior in the chain of command, and she therefore must still respect his authority.

"I'll bet it was that ass-wipe we brought in a few nights ago, what's his name, _Pierre_ ," grumbled Provenza, "I'll bet that snot didn't tell you what an asshole he was."

"It's that kind of language, Lieutenant, that has forced me to mandate the training," replies Sharon smugly. "You see, I understand that suspects can be a nightmare to collar, but you should have the professionalism to refrain from using such language – particularly in front of the _ass-wipe_ you've just arrested."

"So it was him," growled Provenza, irritation flashing in his eyes.

"Again, I'm not at liberty to say. Though, if you have to ask, it makes me wonder how many of your cases I should be looking at, Lieutenant."

"Well, _Sergeant,"_ he spits furiously, "You waste your time on that, and I'll be out looking for the real dirt-bags."

Provenza stomps out of her office without so much as a backwards glance, and Sharon finally allows herself to release the laughter she'd been fighting to stifle throughout the encounter.

Sobering slightly, Sharon reviews the _actual_ case that had allowed her to exact her retribution against Provenza.

It was a decidedly bad move on Provenza's part to refer to the suspect as an asshole when discussing him with his lawyer. It was a worse move to equate his bad behaviour, or as Provenza had deemed to call it: 'dirtbaggery', with the suspect's sexuality. It's astonishing to Sharon that he'd even managed to say that with a straight face, let alone defend his actions when called out by the suspect's lawyer. Worse still, his partner had offered to take the lawyer to his 'frou-frou' client moments later, cementing their overt prejudice against the client and their resulting need for Sensitivity Training.

Was it the worst case she'd had this week? Not by a longshot. Was it the most entertaining? Damn straight. Not to mention, Sharon could recall each and every incident of sexual harassment that hadn't been called out in their murder room just because Provenza and Andrews had such a high closure rate. There'd be no more of that, not on her watch.

Laughing internally, Sharon seals Provenza's fate as she enters the information for his first training course into their database, along with the disciplinary actions to be taken against him when he doesn't turn up.

Smirking, Sharon hopes that the Lieutenant and his partner will enjoy learning to be sensitive, compliments of Internal Affairs.

 _ **I thought I was done with this, but I guess not. Still, Hope you've enjoyed reading the last chapter (for sure, this time!). If you did, please leave review and let me know what you think :)**_


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